


Know when to fold 'em

by millygal



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Betting, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Convention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 22:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: What do you do when two of your closest friends become a thing? Of course, you run a book. Isn’t that what all good friends do? Jared and Jensen may think they’re being subtle but you have to get up earlier in the morning to pull the wool over Mark and Misha’s eyes.





	1. Prologue - Jacksonville - Florida

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you to my lovely and wonderful beta jj1564 and the flisties who helped read this through for me, stir_of_echoes, masja_17, you girls rule all. As for my artist kuwlshadow, honey, a pleasure and a privilege, thank you so much for all your hard work I ADORE my pieces <3<3<3
> 
>  

**Jacksonville - Florida.**

Misha’s phone rings and he practically flies across the room to answer it. “Mark? Well hurry it up would you, I’ve been _up_ for hours. Yes, no I know that but - fine fine, make it snappy, I’m starting to get a stress headache. No, that is not spelt blue balls. Cheeky bastard. Just, hurry, please?”

The sound of Mark’s laughter echoes in his ear before the dial tone kicks in and Misha’s not sure whether he wants to throttle the Brit or kiss him until he can’t think straight.

This is getting ridiculous. Sneaking around all over the place, having to time their _meetings_ so nobody sees them together. Who’s going to notice if two of the show’s actors spend a little more time together than usual? They are friends, after all.

Were friends.

Right now Misha doesn’t really know what they are.

Fuck buddies - no, too crass.

Friends with benefits - maybe, although he’s never _snuggled_ a friend with benefits after the actual **benefits** part was done with.

Boyfriends - are they both too old for that title?

Man friends - that just makes them sound like servants in a well-to-do household.

“Oh for fuck sake, what am I doing? I’m too fucking old for all this running around and hiding bullshit, pretending we aren’t - _finally_.”

A soft tap sounds against Misha’s door and he almost trips over his own feet as he stumbles across the room.

He grabs the handle and starts talking before the door’s fully open. “You best not be wearing any underwear - oh, crap, hey. I wasn’t expecting - “

Jared stands in the hallway, smirking and waggling his eyebrows at Misha, who's gone purple and is having serious issues breathing. “As a matter of fact, I’m not, but I wasn’t aware my commando status had anythin’ to do with you. Expectin’ someone else, were we?”

Just as Jared’s enjoying the bug eyed look of terror on Misha’s face, Mark comes sauntering round the corner and almost falls flat on his face from the shock of seeing someone else stood where he should be.

Jared hears Mark’s mumbled cussing and turns, bestowing the sweetest most innocent smile he can on the man who’s clearly doing a mental marathon trying to come up with an excuse as to why he’s haunting Misha’s hallway. “Mark, buddy, good to see you. Have the same idea as me?”

Mark almost swallows his tongue but manages to find his voice. “I, uh. Y-yes?”

Jared lets a small evil smirk curve his lips up before schooling his features and nodding. “Good, let’s mosey on down, then, shall we?”

Misha’s stood behind Jared shaking his head and mouthing threats, but Mark’s at a complete loss as to what excuse he can come out with that will make Jared let this one go. “I, yeah yeah, sure, it’s just - I had, I left - “

Misha comes to his rescue after rolling his eyes and silently snorting at Mark’s less than stealthy approach. “Give us half an hour would you Jay, I promised Mark I’d print him some photos he could sign and hand out.”

Jared spins and grins at Misha, highly impressed at his quick thinking and slightly disappointed that his friend isn’t mumbling and blushing any more. “Cool, see you down there. Don’t be _too_ long. Clif’s having heart failure about the security arrangements. He wants to walk everyone through the protocols.”

Jared tips a salute at Mark as he wanders passed and rounds the corner.

Quietly Jared steps backwards and leans against the wall and cranes his neck so he can hear everything going on in the hallway. Eavesdroppers may never hear well of themselves, but he’s way too intent on getting proper proof he can present to Jensen.

Misha listens for a moment, making sure the coast is clear, before lunging towards Mark and dragging him in for a sloppily timed, extremely messy kiss.

Mark’s too busy enjoying the feel of Misha’s lips sliding against his to notice the tell-tale sound of someone doing the “I _knew_ it!” dance ten feet and one corner away.

As Mark bodily shoves Misha into his room and kicks the door shut, Jared smiles and claps his hands together once before pulling his phone from his pocket.

Tapping out a quick text, Jared continues to laugh quietly to himself all the way down to the Green Room.

*************

“No, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

Jensen looks at Jared like he’s grown a second head. “But - “

Jared leans forward and taps Jensen on the forehead. “Does this remind you of anyone - Any excuse to be alone together,  
poor explanations as to why dinner dates and pre-arranged outings have been missed, spending every waking moment talking about the other person - Hmmm?”

Jensen can’t believe he’s been so blind and he’s annoyed as hell that Jared spotted it first, but there is most definitely something there between Misha and Mark. “Okay, fine, I’ll lay you down a fifty that Mark makes the first official move.”

Jared scoffs at Jensen’s smug look. “No way. Misha will be the one who finally caves. And you know why, right?”

Off of Jensen’s confused eyebrow lift, Jared explains with huge amounts of joy. “Misha loves nothing better than one upping Mark. We’ve seen it, on stage and off. The day they finally come **out** it will be because Misha decides he can’t let Mark beat him to the punch.”

Jensen shakes his head and grins before pushing his open palm towards Jared. “Fine, fifty says Mark makes it clear before Misha. Clear being a public show of affection in front is us or some kind of announcement on stage. Agreed?”

Jared smirks at his partner and leans forward before snatching the hand being offered and sealing the bet with a quick peck on the lips. “You’re going down, Jen, Misha is SO going to out them first.”

“Whether I’m going down or not is another question entirely.”

“Flirt”

“Always!”

“Guys, five minutes and you’re up!”

Jensen waves at Simon who’s gripping his clipboard tight enough to bend it, and smiles. “Calm, we’ve got this. You’ve got this.”

Simon readjusts his headset and winces. “There are over two thousand people in that audience, it looks like a mosh pit without the thumping bass.”

“Excellent. Let’s get this party started then, shall we?”

 


	2. Houston - Texas

**Houston - Texas**

Misha’s not entirely sure what to do with himself right now.

Mark’s been called to Boston for a family emergency and Misha’s been left hanging, waiting for the convention to start and having to put up with Jared and Jensen making not-so-subtle cracks about him moping and being lonely.

If not for the fact that neither Texan has come out and actually _asked_ him if he’s fucking Mark, Misha would swear they **knew** , but Jared’s never been able to sit on a secret in his life. Jensen might just be able to rein it in, because let’s face it, Jen is the far more relaxed of the two, but with Jay hanging on his shoulder and prodding he can be just as over excitable and silly.

So, no, they can’t know.

And yet all they’ve done since Mark got called away is whisper and smirk and make comments about Misha being a puppy-dog who’s lost his favourite toy.

Shaking his head, trying to clear some of the depressed fog from his mind, Misha takes a deep breath and heads towards the Green Room, in search of a beer and some food. Mark will be fine, he’s sure, but that doesn’t stop Misha worrying.

It also doesn’t stop the raging erection Misha’s been sporting since Mark had to hot foot it out of his hotel room at high speed this morning.

This weekend is going to be long, painful and uncomfortable. Thank heavens for the fans, they always manage to lift his spirits.

**************

Jared stands in the wings watching Misha do his thing and is, as always, in awe of a man who can hold a two thousand strong audience captive, keep them sitting in the palm of his hand for the entire stage talk.

Jared’s not a wallflower by any shake of the tail, but even he gets stage fright on occasion, and today Misha’s dealing with Mark being elsewhere _and_ the fact he can’t check up on him regularly, or speak about his worry out loud. The man is a machine, a fucking hilarious intelligent machine.

There’s a small part of Jared that’s feeling properly sorry for one of his best friends. He’s been through the whole - _can’t-share-it-don’t-know-how-to-stop-thinking-about-it_ thing - however the larger part, the one wearing a bright white suit and a blood red rose in his top pocket, is kind of enjoying the fact that he knows eventually Misha will cave and he’ll have bragging rights, for years.

*************

Misha stands in front of the audience, the fans, his family, and allows their love and warmth to soothe the itchy feeling in the back of his mind that he can’t quite shake. “So, questions, comments, suggestions for my newest GISH list?”

A plethora of hands shoot into the air all at once and Misha watches the guy with the mic scan the sea of waving arms, and feels not a little sorry for the poor man. This must be one of the most insane jobs he’s ever had. “Yep, you, wearing, if I’m not mistaken, Stoner Castiel’s hippie outfit?”

The dude points at himself and bounces.

Misha beams at him and nods. “Yes, you!”

“Wow, okay, didn’t think I’d be gettin’ picked for a question, sorry, little bit - has anyone ever told you you’re gorgeous?”

Misha snorts, shakes his head and opens his arms wide. “I tell myself that every day, but thanks.”

The genuine humour in Misha’s voice makes the guy still hopping up and down on the spot laugh loudly, almost deafening the rest of the audience. “Right, okay, GISH list item. How’s about a flash mob of Castiels, or Sams or Deans, or even Crowleys. Largest city centre closest to as many Gishers as possible and just hit it with hundreds of Cosplayers?”

Misha’s so intrigued and amused by the mental picture that’s creating he has to sit down and ponder the idea for a moment.

Smiling softly to himself, Misha is once again overwhelmed by the participation and creativity his _little_ scavenger hunt has garnered since its inception. He looks up into the mass of faces all nodding and mumbling their approval. “That, my friend, is a fucking fabulous idea. Crap, sorry, I mean dang and blast, watch your language Collins. Yes, that is a brilliant idea. I’m not promising it’ll be on this year’s list, but look out for it at some point in the Future.”

Gavin - the guy who’s just made Misha sit down and think for a minute, finds himself giddy with pride. Misha Collins genuinely thought about an idea _he_ suggested. The sense of joy that brings almost makes his chest burst and he struggles to get his words out. “I - I - COOL! Thanks! Also, just wanted to say how much fun this weekend’s been so far and thank you for helping it be awesome.”

Misha allows his happiness at this random fan’s enjoyment shine through onto his features and he beams out into the audience. “You, my friend, are welcome!”

************

Mark’s been sitting in a hospital room for hours, waiting on news about his best friend, hoping against hope she’ll be okay.

Stupid idiot, what was she thinking, riding without leathers?

“Mister Sheppard?”

Mark shoots out of his chair and feels the backs of his thighs cramping. Rubbing away the pain and hissing at his body which seems determined to make a fool of him in front of the doctors, Mark winces and looks up at the man wearing a white coat and a sympathetic smile. “Yes, sorry. That’s me. Any news?”

“The chairs here aren’t exactly what you’d call fun to sit in, are they? Right, yes, Sarah’s still a little groggy but she’s doing well. The fact she was wearing a helmet saved her brain from serious injury, but she does have a broken leg and road rash, quite severe road rash all along her left side.”

Mark shakes his head and growls. “Wait until I get my hands on her, I’ll - “

The doctor isn’t unfamiliar with this reaction to road traffic accidents involving motorcycle riders who go without the proper clothing, but he’s still shocked at the anger in Mister Sheppard’s voice. “Maybe wait until she’s at full strength before you _throttle_ her. Anyway, she’s asking for you.”

Mark knows how furious he must look, he can feel his face twisting into a grimace, his eyebrows pinching together. “I’m sorry, it’s just - one of our friends was killed in a motorbike accident, because he wasn’t wearing his leathers and a helmet.”

“Ahhh. Okay, well, almost full strength should do then. You can go in. First left after the lifts.”

“Thank you.”

***************

“I know, I know - don’t look at me like that!”

Mark’s perched on the edge of Sarah’s bed, wearing a look that could peel paint from walls. “Don’t _I know_ me Sar - You nearly **died**. Of all the stupid - “

Sarah closes her eyes and sinks lower in the bed, as low as the traction device suspending her leg from the ceiling will allow. “I KNOW! Look, it was a five minute ride from the house, how was I ‘sposed to know some idiot in a SUV was going to T-Bone me?”

Mark leans forward, allows the worry in his eyes to flash out past the anger. “Not the point. Don’t you **ever** do that again, you hear me?”

Sarah reaches out and grips Mark’s hand, hard. “Promise. Now, fuck off would you, I’m bloody knackered. Dannee’s coming to keep an eye on me anyways, you don’t have to stay.”

“I want to.”

“Go, seriously. I do believe there’s a tall dark American with a thing for snarky Brits waiting back in Texas.”

Mark snorts and grins before sighing and resting his forehead against Sarah’s. “Ring, if you need anything, just ring me, okay?”

“My hero, now GO!”

************

Jared’s in the process of taking yet another bet from one of the band when Jensen saunters into the Green Room.

Cash in mid-air, hand hovering in front of Jared’s face, Rob blushes before dropping the money in his friend’s lap and mumbling. “One hundred on Misha.”

Jensen’s trying not to lose his temper in front of the entirety of Louden Swain, but Jared’s guilty look is only adding fuel to the fire. “You have got to be kiddin’ me. Are you runnin’ a book?!”

“Maybe.”

Jensen steps up next to Jared and smacks him upside the head. “Moron. You know Mark’s comin’ back this afternoon, don’t you? If he or Misha catch wind - “

Rob scuttles away then throws a parting shot over his shoulder and huffs a laugh. “Good luck, man.”

Jared stands to his full height and pins Jensen with a look that quite clearly says he knows Jensen’s only being outraged to look like the _good_ one of the two of them. “Oh come on Jen, you know as well as I do, when they eventually get it on properly they’ll be the first people to congratulate us on our astuteness and money making abilities. That or they’ll demand half the pot.”

Jensen caves and chuckles at Jared. “Fine, fine, I won’t tan your hide just yet.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop it. Anyway, I’m thinkin’ Mark’s gonna end up in Misha’s room most the rest of the weekend, I wouldn’t count on him managin’ any stage talks or socialisin’. Sarah’s fine, by the way. Creakin’ and achin’ and she looks a bit like the Elephant Man, but fine.”

“I know, she texted me.”

“Smart ass.”

“Jack ass.”

“Fabulous ass.”

“You know it.”

********************

Misha sits in arrivals waiting for Mark, trying not to twitch and fidget but wishing the damned plane would hurry up and let the passengers off. How is it they can fly halfway across the country in hours but it takes this long to disembark the individuals who just _flew_ through the fucking air in a giant tin can?

Misha’s about to get up and ask yet another airport official what’s taking so long when a wave of people start filtering through the gates. “Finally.”

It doesn’t take Misha long to spot Mark, who looks like he’s been run over by a truck; dark circles beneath his eyes, hair messy and unbrushed, clothes hanging off his stooping frame.

Misha’s struck by just how hard his heart hurts for his friend and how much his arms ache to wrap around Mark’s sagging shoulders, and he suddenly realises how much trouble he’s actually in. “Oh crap. Really? This is gonna get messy.”

Mark sees Misha bobbing about in the corner, rocking on the balls of his feet, clearly having issues not running up and hugging him, and he finds the sight of his friend lifts some of the dark funk he’s been in since seeing Sarah.

Mark straightens a little and walks across the terminal to stand in front of Misha whose eyes are darting left and right. “Miss me?”

Misha’s willpower gives out on him and he finds his arms moving without his say so.

Winding them around Mark’s shoulders, he drops a gentle subtle kiss against his temple before whispering in his ear. “You have no idea. How is she?”

Mark leans into the embrace for a moment before pulling away and squeezing Misha’s hand whilst nodding to the people all pulling out phones and cameras from their bags and pockets. “Fine. Broken and a fucking idiot, but fine. She’ll mend.”

Misha nods to a security guard who opens a service exit emergency door, and drags Mark towards the blessedly fan free space. “And you?”

“Tired. And glad to be back.”

“Good. The glad thing, not the tired thing. Let’s get you back to the hotel and into a nice warm bed.”

Mark’s eyebrows raise and he smirks but Misha huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “To sleep.”

“That’s what you think.”


	3. Nashville - Tennessee

** Nashville - Tennessee **

“That was a long assed two weeks.”

“You’ve seen me every day for filming.”

Misha waits for their joint stage talk with a trepidation that _still_ comes before stepping out onto the stage. “Not the same. The trailer rocks.”

Mark huffs a laugh and runs a hand down Misha’s arm before gripping his fingers. “It wouldn’t if you’d just stop trying to jump off the top of the wardrobe.”

Misha barks a laugh then shoots an apologetic look to the guy in charge of announcing them. “Sorry.”

Turning to Mark, leaning in slightly, letting his breath ghost against his friend’s neck, Misha smirks and replies. “Where would be the fun in that? You always look so good all spread out on the bed and how in the hell am I ‘sposed to resist literally attack-hugging you?”

The thought of Misha behind him makes Mark squirm and growl. “Stop that. We’ve got a talk to do! And you have been spending way too much time on the fan sites. Attack-hugging, really?”

“What? From what I can tell it’s used like a verb, a _doing_ verb. It describes quite nicely what I like **doing** to you.”

“ **And now we have Mark Sheppard and Misha Collins. Give them a warm welcome and make sure they know they’re wanted!** ”

Mark hisses at Misha before stepping out onto stage, with a distinct pronounced limp, and tries not to wince every time the material of his trousers rubs against his cock which is now trapped along the inside of his thigh.

Misha follows swiftly behind Mark and chuckles under his breath when he notices just how uncomfortable his friend is. “Evening folks, how are we?”

Mark takes a sidestep, putting him behind Misha and out of the line of sight for the audience and tries to rearrange himself before smacking the taller man upside his head and whispering. “GIT!”

Misha ignores the slight ringing in his ears and grins at the audience whilst flipping Mark off behind his back. “So, who’s got a question?”

*******************

Jared’s trying not to make a big deal out of it but it’s clear that Misha and Mark are completely drunk off their asses and if they’re not careful _coming out_ won’t be an issue any more.

Clicking his fingers to get Jensen’s attention, Jared nods towards Mark whose face is practically purple from the effort not to hump Misha’s leg in front of everyone.

Jensen rolls his eyes and grins then sits himself in Jared’s lap and whispers in his partner’s ear. “Do you miss those days? The ones where we had to be subtle, which by the way, you were not!”

Jared snorts and slides the tip of his nose along the line of Jensen’s jaw. “I so too was. It wasn’t my fault you were all cute and fuckable all the damned time.”

Jensen shivers and bats at Jared’s shoulder. “Oh, really? You have any idea how many shooting cues you ruined, Mister I-Like-To-Suck-Cock-Whilst-Waiting-For-Marks-To-Be-Set-Up!”

Jared’s bark of laughter brings Misha’s attention towards the pair who are too cute for words, sickly cute, like a run over kitten. “Guys, s-s-serios-sch, really? Get a ROOM!”

Jared looks at Jensen and smirks, raising one eyebrow and tilting his head.

Jensen’s almost imperceptible shake of the head stops Jared outing the pair of them then and there for being so fucking cheeky, but he can’t resist a small barb.”Oh, should we? I was just thinkin’ the same about - other people - you think perhaps you two should get yourselves to your _beds_.”

Mark’s groggy head comes up to stare at Jared who’s face is the picture of innocence, before flicking his eyes to Misha and regretting it instantly as his head swims. “He’s probably not wrong, maybe we should - you know - bed.”

Misha’s lascivious drunken giggle isn’t lost on anyone in the room but the rules of the bet are simple; no one is allowed to bring the subject up with them. They have to announce it themselves.

With this in mind Kim steps forward and slides a hand beneath Misha’s arm and yanks him to his feet. “Come on, dude. Someone can’t hold their liquor.”

Mark struggles off the couch and makes a grab for Misha’s shirt tail, almost ripping the material in two. “We got it, we can - we’ll be f-f-fine!”

Kim shakes her head and throws a two finger salute at the pair as they A-Frame themselves out of the room.

Waiting for them to be completely clear and out of earshot, Jensen clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shoots a mock-serious look at Kim. “Not you too?”

Kim snorts and tips her beer at Jensen before bumping her fist against Jared’s. “What can I say - I’m a romantic - that and I’ve got some serious coin riding on Mark being the one who finally confesses his love in public.”

“Mean, you’re all so mean.”

Rob pipes up from the back of the room where he’s been quietly noodling on his guitar. “Exactly how much have you got laid down against Mark, Jen?”

“That’s not the point.”

The sound of a room full of people laughing and clinking beer bottles can be heard all the way out into the auditorium where the staff are diligently setting up for the next morning’s stage talks.


	4. Seattle - Washington

**Seattle - Washington**

Osric’s about to go on stage but he wants a quick word with Jared and Jensen first; usually they don’t make it down until Saturday, so he’s tapping out a text as he sees Misha stumble passed looking a little worse for wear.

Sighing and smiling, Osric shouts out a greeting. “Dude, you look like hammered crap. What happened?”

Just as Misha’s about to open his mouth and reply, wincing and holding his head, Mark comes stumbling into the wings, looking equally as awful and just as ruffled.

Misha’s entire demeanour changes; his face lights up, his eyes get somehow brighter, and the smile curving his lips is one of genuine affection.

Osric tilts his head and studies the pair of them before snapping a quick stealthy photo and tapping out a second, even shorter, text.

Mark nods at Misha and walks by, limping slightly and looking completely satisfied with himself. “Afternoon Os, looking forward to your talk?”

“Yeah, should be good. Think the outfit will go over well?”

Misha’s head’s still banging and he’s sore in places he didn’t know he could be sore in, but his friend’s clothing finally registers and he can’t help his loud laughter. “I’m thinking anyone who’s ever watched a Marvel film or read a comic book will fucking love it.”

Osric smoothes out his Wonder Woman outfit and beams at the two men. “Thanks! Right, wish me luck!”

************

Upstairs in their hotel room, Jared and Jensen are still hidden beneath a set of rumpled covers.

Jared is just about awake when his message tone pings twice in quick succession.

Fumbling for his phone, Jared makes an awkward grab for it, reluctant to disturb Jensen who’s snuggled into the crook of his neck and snoring softly.

All thoughts of not waking his sleeping partner flee from Jared’s mind as he barks out a raucous laugh and snorts before tapping out a one handed reply. “Fuckin’ fabulous.”

Jensen snuffles and shakes his head, dragged from slumber by his other half’s less than genteel tones. “Wh-what? What time is it?”

“Sorry Baby, it’s time we were up anyway, we’re officially in the afternoon. Come on.”

Jensen rubs sleep from his eyes and grumbles about loud over-sized Texans disturbing his sweet dreams before realising he was awoken for a reason. “Who was that textin’?”

Jared slides from beneath the covers and wanders towards the bathroom, sans any kind of clothing, and enjoys the way he can feel Jensen’s eyes raking across his bare skin. “It was just Osric. He’s in for fifty on Misha, and he sent a picture.”

Jensen can’t drag his eyes from Jared’s pert bite-able backside. “Do I even wanna know?”

“Let’s just put it this way - Mark and Misha are officially coming down to the convention halls looking like they fucked until the sun came up - I don’t think we’re gonna have to wait much longer for one of them to _announce_ something. Now, get your ass in here and help scrub my back.”

Jensen’s out of bed and barrelling into the bathroom behind Jared so fast they both almost topple sideways into the tub. “Twist my arm why dontcha?”

“Tart!”

“For you, always.”

****************

Jared’s sitting on the edge of the empty stage, little red book in hand, counting up how many people have officially laid money on Misha and Mark’s _romance_ whilst enjoying the way Jensen’s fingernails are scraping against the nape of his neck.

“Kim, Osric, Rob, Stevie, you, me, Travis, Matt, Rich, and Brianna. Wow, we have some nasty cast mates.”

Jensen digs his nails in a little harder than necessary and laughs at Jared’s catty hiss. “You can talk. Who started this thing?”

“Technically, _you_.”

“I would never.”

Jensen’s butter-wouldn’t-melt smile is almost convincing, but Jared’s not buying it. “And I quote - _“Okay, fine, I’ll lay you down a fifty that Mark makes the first official move._.”

Jensen’s still trying to pull off innocent until Jared tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at him. “Okay, okay, fine. I started it, but I didn’t know you were gonna open it up to the entire fuckin’ con circuit. Mark and Misha are gonna kill us. **Both** of us.”

Jared’s about to respond when Tim pokes his head out from behind the curtain and waves. “Guys, quick question. What odds exactly are you offering on this thing?”

“Split pot between the betting pool. Mark gives in first then Misha’s markers lose their stake and vice versa.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry Jen, I’ve got you covered.”

“Smarmy fucker. Who says you’re gonna win!”

“Fine, I’ll make you a deal. If Mark caves first I’ll pay your marker and you can have a _gift_ of your choosin’. However, if Misha gives in and outs them both, same rules apply in reverse. Deal?”

“Deal. Seriously so SMUG!”

Tim smirks at the pair squabbling and swinging their legs off the edge of the stage. “You too are ridiculous. Put me down for seventy five on Mark. And boys…”

“Yes?”

“If they’re half as cute as you two when they eventually ‘couple up’, I’m going to have to stop coming to these things. It’s sickening.”

“Cheeky bastard.”

****************

Mark’s been hearing some disturbing whispers amongst the cast and con crews, and he’s not entirely sure he believes them, but if Jared and Jensen are involved, you can bet your bottom dollar they’re true. “Fuck. Absolute fucking cheek of it. I mean seriously - “

Misha walks into the empty bar-one Green Room and is met with an irate Mark swearing to himself and making grand gestures with his arms.

“What’s up?”

Mark spins and pins Misha with a glare that stops him in his tracks. “Your fucking friends!”

Misha’s shocked at the level of irritation flashing behind Mark’s eyes but he can’t help thinking how attractive the man is when he’s got a head of steam going. “ _My_ friends?”

Mark manages to calm himself down enough to realise that statement is ridiculous. “Okay, fine, **our** friends. Did you know they’re running a book on us?”

Misha’s eyes go comically wide and Mark has to hold himself in check or he’ll collapse in a fit of snorts.

“A **BOOK**?”

“A book.”

“And what exactly _is_ the bet, or do I even want to know?”

Mark reaches out and grabs Misha’s hands, dragging him down onto the couch. “Apparently they’re laying wagers on who’s going to _out_ us as a couple first. Split pool. People who bet it’s me and win get all of your markers, and the same but flipped if you say something first. How bloody sneaky are they?!”

Misha’s almost impressed. It’s not like they’ve been subtle the last few conventions but a book, that’s just down right rude. “Let me guess, Jared’s holding the money?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because it’s Jared. Okay, I’ve got a plan, but - this requires someone we know we can trust not to dime us to the boys - you game?”

Mark loves the fact that Misha is as crafty as him, and he finds himself wanting nothing more than to give Jen and Jay what they’re betting against and shout from the rooftops that they are in fact a couple, but it’s not actually something he and Misha have talked about. They’ve been too busy getting naked and sweaty for much chatting. “I’m game. So, this plan?”

Misha leans in close to Mark and starts whispering in hushed but animated tones, and Mark’s face splits into the most evil grin. “Perfect!”


	5. Birmingham - England

**Birmingham - England**

Mark feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he scans the corridor for Jared or Jensen. The coast seems clear so he drags it from his trousers and clicks it onto speaker. “So, still missing me?”

“More than I’m willing to admit to _you_. We all set?”

“Yeah, she’s fine with it. One proviso, she gets first retweet and takes the first picture.”

“Why does nobody do anything out of the goodness of their heart anymore?!”

Mark huffs a laugh down the phone and enjoys the way Misha’s voice joins his. “Because people aren’t that nice, and redheads are sneaky and evil. However, she doesn’t want the money back, she just wants to see the look on Jared’s face when we go live. That is apparently payment enough.”

“Careful, she hears you talking like that she’ll hex your ass. Do tell her thank you from me, won’t you?”

“Are we confusing television with reality again, Misha? And yes, I’ll make sure to pass on your regards.”

“Don’t pass them on too hard.”

Mark notices the hitch in Misha’s voice and can’t help his soft chuckle. “Are you - are you jealous? You know we’re just friends, right?”

Misha’s clearly not in the mood for in depth chats over the phone whilst separated by thousands of miles but Mark can hear the pout in his voice.

“You and I are just friends.”

“No we’re not.”

“We’re not friends?”

“Oh for the love of - yes we’re friends. We’re not _just_ friends. Stop it.”

“Okay okay, I’m sorry, it’s just - you’re there and I’m here and - not dealing with the distance well.”

Mark allows his true feelings to leak into his voice to try and assuage some of Misha’s misgivings as he leans closer to the phone mic. “I get it, Misha, just, hang tough, okay? It’s only a weekend.”

Misha blows out a breath that distorts the mic and makes Mark’s ears ring. “Fine. Fine. I’m fine. I - You - We -“

“I miss you too, you bloody idiot. Phone later.”

*************

Jared and Jensen are lounging in the Green Room, plates of food resting on their joined legs, chuckling about Ty’s panel.

“The man’s like a wind-up toy. Pull his string, watch him go.”

“I know, I swear that poor girl was gonna have herself a small fit when he wandered across the hall. Nothin’ quite like bein’ faced with a bit of Southern and a smile that could down panties at fifty paces.”

Jared flicks his eyes to his partner and tilts his head. “Oh _really_? Panties at fifty paces, huh? Somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

Jensen huffs a laugh and takes a swig on his beer before rolling his eyes at Jared. “No, sweetcheeks, definitely not. He’s a hottie for sure but he’s not my type. I like ‘em gangly and long haired, if you hadn’t noticed?”

“Gangly?! I’ll show you gangly.” Jared starts pulling at the hem of his shirt as Jensen laughs so animatedly his plate nearly hits the floor.

“Stop, stop, you’re not gangly, I retract the statement.”

Just as Jared leans in to snatch a quick kiss, Ruth wanders into the room, giggles and tisks loudly.

“You two are incorrigible. There are young ones present.”

Jensen looks past Jared who’s resolutely refusing to relinquish his grip on his partner’s chin and winks. “Hey Ruthie. I’m fairly certain Hilly and Hannah have seen worse, I wouldn’t worry about their precious sensibilities being offended by us makin’ out.”

Ruth gracefully lowers herself onto the opposite couch and smacks at Jared’s knee. “Stop ignorin’ me, ya giant Herbert.”

Jared finally let’s go of Jensen and turns his head, eyes sparking with humour. “Herbert? What is that, Irish for Idjit?”

“If ya call me Irish once more I’m gonna have ta start leavin’ nasty stuff in ya trailer.”

Jared untangles himself from Jensen and spins, resting his chin on his hands and giving Ruth his best impression of a kicked puppy. “You wouldn’t. I’m just too cute for you to pick on, admit it, you adore me!”

Ruth can’t hold her amusement in check any longer and snorts in Jared’s face. “Adore is a strong word, don’t mind havin’ ya around, as a pet. Anyway, I came in here ta see if ya wanted ta take another marker on this wee wager you’ve got goin’ on?”

Jared leans back and digs around in his pocket for his little red book, whilst Jensen inches forward and shakes his head at Ruth. “You too? And you’re meant to be his Mother”

Ruth loves both the boys beyond words, but some days she has to stop herself knocking their heads together, just to see how many times their eyes spin around. “Hush yourself, Jensen, I’m not above makin’ a little money on the side, plus I have a proposition for the pair of ya. Fancy makin’ it a wee bit more interestin’?”

Jared’s head comes up so sharply he almost gives himself whiplash. “Interestin’, how?”

“Jared, you’re already pushin’ your luck with this thing. If you start makin’ side bets Mark and Misha will kick both our asses into the middle of next season.”

Ruth wonders if sometimes Jared would end up covered in crazy glue and glitter without Jensen around to temper his silly, over enthusiastic side, but his silly, over enthusiastic side is what she's counting on right now. So she says something that is guaranteed to get Jensen off both their backs. “Oh come now, don’t tell me ya afraid of little ol’ me? An’ I thought Texans were big tough men with bollocks of steel, not shrinkin’ wall flowers.”

Jensen tries to hide it but he visibly bristles at the implication he’s anything less than all man, and so shoves Jared in the shoulder before clicking his fingers and huffing. “Whatever she bets, I’ll double it.”

Ruth doesn’t let the satisfaction show on her face but inside she’s doing a small victory dance, complete with feather boa and thumping bass backing her as she shimmies her very fine arse. “That’s my boy. So, Jared, up for it?”

Jared watches the exchange with no small amount of amusement. Jensen’s so easy some days it’s like watching someone play an instrument. Shaking his head at Ruth and tutting, he licks the tip of his pencil and sits poised to start scribbling. “That was _cruel_.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

Jensen chooses to ignore the pair of them in favour of taking a swig off his beer and silently berating himself for letting Ruth get one over on him, again.

“Right. I’ll lay ya down two hundred, _but_ , I say Misha **and** Mark will publically announce their relationship on social media within the next two weeks. Deal?”

Jared looks to Jensen who’s already offered to double or quits Ruth’s bet, and raises his eyebrows. “Well?”

Jensen’s face splits into a giant smug grin. “I’ll take that bet. There’s no **way** they’ll do that. Too public. They might just say something on stage, which obviously would be retweeted until the end of time, but they won’t ever do it themselves.”

Jensen shoves his hand out towards Ruth who inclines her head and smiles sweetly at him before taking his offered fingers and shaking them. “Okay. Remember, two weeks. And you’ll owe me four hundred.”

Jared’s not entirely sure what just happened but by the looks of the twinkle in Ruth’s eyes, they might have bitten off more than either of them can chew. “Redheads are evil.”

“I’ll let you in on a wee secret, Jay - we know, we enjoy it.”

**************

“We’re all set.”

“You sure you’re up for the next part?”

“Have I ever backed down on a bet, or a chance to show up Moose and Squirrel?”

“Do I sense a little character bleed there, _Mark_?”

“No, maybe. Think of it this way, not only can we up the ante and get them to take as many bets as possible, but we can finally get them back for all those toes in the bollocks and hands sliding up your inner thigh. No more corpsing for you.”

Misha thinks that alone is worth the humiliation that’s going to happen before they _announce_ anything. Although - he always did have an exhibitionist streak. “When’s your flight due in to Roma?”

“I’ll be there by midday. Remember, go big or go home.”

“You know we’re fairly mental and mean, right?”

“Because Jared and Jensen are polite little puppy-dogs? I still have a bite mark on my arse from when Jared was trying to kill my coverage last week.”

The laughter coming down the phone line makes Mark want to kick and kiss Misha, he’ll settle for threatening, for now. “Watch it, Collins, or I’ll leave teeth marks on you and see how you like it.”

“Promises, promises.”


	6. Rome - Italy

**Rome - Italy**

Seeing as Misha’s flight was due only an hour after the rest of the cast flying out to Rome, Jared, Jensen and Mark decided to wait for their cast mate in the VIP lounge and drive to the hotel together.

Clif now sits playing cards with Mark whilst Jared and Jensen enjoy a properly brewed Italian coffee and the adult version of Eye-Spy.

“Eye Spy with my little eye somethin’ beginnin’ with T.”

“If the answer it _Tits_ I’m so out of this game.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am fun, I’m just not lowerin’ myself to your level.”

“Jen, when have you ever said _no_ to lowerin’ yourself for me, hmmm?”

Jensen rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh whilst enjoying the rich scent of coffee wafting up his nose when suddenly there’s an almighty squeal and a commotion where Mark and Clif are sitting.

“What the fu - “

Spinning in unison Jared and Jensen see Mark _running_ across the room, pushing other people out of the way, and throwing himself into Misha’s arms; Misha is sporting the daftest grin and holding a long stemmed red rose.

“Seconded! What are they playin’ at?”

Clif, who’s now covered in half a deck of cards and wearing an equally as confused look as his two charges, leans over to Jared and whispers. “Any chance I can get in on this bet?”

Jared’s too busy gawping at the disgustingly open display of public affection going on in the centre of the room to take much notice of Clif, but Jensen clicks his fingers in front of his boyfriend’s face and calls his name, loudly.

“Jay, JAY. Clif wants in.”

“Huh, oh, yeah - sure. Are they for _real_?”

Jensen turns his head and sees Mark practically swallowing all of Misha’s tongue, right out in the open for all to see, and he’s just as puzzled, but realises if they’re acting like this an end to the damned bet can’t be far off. “I think - maybe the separation made them both _insane_. That or Mark is passed the point of horny and his brain cells have melted.”

Thank god for Mark’s height because it’s all Misha can do to stop himself collapsing in a fit of giggles at the looks on his best friend’s faces.

Enjoying Mark’s full on display for a moment longer, Misha clocks someone in the far corner of the lounge pulling their phone out, having clearly gotten over the shock of seeing two of the supposedly straight stars of _Supernatural_ making out in public.

Clearing his throat and pulling away, Misha rests his forehead against Mark’s and winks at his - boyfriend? - They really need to have a conversation. First though, they need to get out of here before their entire plan is blown by some poor dude who’s looking like he’s struck gold. “Mark, we kinda need to - “

Mark takes a deep steadying breath and tries to find his balance. Turns out Misha can literally kiss the life out of you whenever, wherever. “Yep, I see him. We best gather the _troops_.”

The sarcasm in Mark’s voice makes Misha flick his eyes left and sure enough, Jared, Jensen and Clif’s mouths are hanging so wide open you could fit a Boeing 747 down their throats. “I think we’ve suitably confused the boys. Phase one is complete.”

Mark spins in Misha’s arms and lets his head rest on the slightly taller man’s shoulder for a moment whilst talking out the side of his mouth. “You sound like a megalomaniac who’s trying to take over the world.”

Misha loops an arm around Mark’s shoulders and leans down as if to nuzzle the top of his head. “Maybe not the world.”

Mark lets the laughter come, knowing it will add to Jared and Jensen’s looks of utter bewilderment. “You freak.”

Jared’s eyes follow Mark and Misha as they grab Mark’s bags and walk off towards the exit.

Jensen opens his mouth to say something when Misha’s voice wafts back towards them. “You lot coming or are we getting a cab?”

Clif jumps up from his seat, still covered in playing cards, and stumbles towards Mark and Misha, depositing Queens and Kings all across the VIP lounge floor.

“Fuck.”

“Seconded.”

***************

If phase one was to make it plainly clear to Jared and Jensen that they’ve either lost their minds or they no longer care who _knows_ what they get up to in their hotel rooms during convention breaks, then Misha and Mark have nailed it.

Rumours are spreading like wildfire.

Up until now they’ve been confined to whispers between cast mates but the entire convention crew is now chattering animatedly in corners only to have to shut their mouths whenever Mark or Misha walk by.

Thankfully everyone at the Convention is a veteran of the circuit and knows not to put anything on social media, but if they keep acting the way they are, Misha and Mark will be front page twitter trending any moment.

Jared’s had to start a new page in his little red book of doom and Jensen’s vetoed taking bets from the crew because they’re volunteers and don’t have hundreds of dollars or euros to spare.

“Kim, Osric, Rob, Stevie, you, me, Travis, Matt, Rich, Brianna, Tim, Ruth, Clif, Ty, Gil, Jason, and Tahmoh makes seventeen, and a sum total of two thousand dollars laid down between the lot of us. Twenty-two hundred if Ruth wins, which I’m not being funny, Jen, but you might end up fronting out four hundred at this rate. What are they fuckin’ doin’?”

Jensen shakes his head like he’s got a flea in his ear and looks towards Mark who’s _canoodling_ with Misha. Sitting on the Green Room couch, surrounded by cast mates and crew members and a very confused looking Daniela, who’s trying not to ask any pointed questions but is quite clearly desperate to know _everything_.

Misha can see Jared and Jensen; heads together, chatting animatedly, throwing pointed glances in their direction, and it’s all he can do not to start stroking Mark’s face just to see if he can turn Jared’s eyelids inside out. “You realise now we’re going to have to go through with this, regardless, right?”

Mark enjoys the sense of wholeness Misha’s solid presence resting against his side brings and nods. “I know, I’m game. You?”

Misha drops the daft smirk he’s been wearing for hours and becomes serious for a moment.

Pulling slightly away and making sure Mark can see his face, Misha searches Mark’s eyes for any hint of fear or regret.

There is none.

Just a small spark of satisfaction that he can still apparently shock his friend.

“I’m game.” The soft kiss and gentle hand that comes up to cup Mark’s cheek isn’t for show, it’s genuine and full of a deep affection neither man thought they’d feel when they started this _thing_

It was originally just a drunken fumble, a way to let off steam after a particularly gruelling day of shooting. From there it’s grown into an actual relationship, and no one is more amazed by that than the men now embracing in front of their friends.

Misha snorts softly and pulls back. “Think we need to move this elsewhere, don’t you? Unless you were planning on sealing the deal with a very public fuck!”

As Misha and Mark get up and leave, hand in hand, Jensen feels a warm sense of happiness wash over him. “Bet or not, I think they’re for real, Jay.”

Jared still doesn’t understand Mark and Misha’s sudden need to parade themselves in front of everyone, but if the small sweet smiles and tight grip of fingers are anything to go by, Jensen’s not wrong and Jared is happy for his friends. Even if he’s about to lose his shirt over it. “Any chance you wanna loan me some money, honey?”

“Fuck off. And by the way, in the terms of the original bet, technically you owe a lot of people a lot of money already.”

*************

Mark and Misha’s rooms are directly opposite each other and Mark stands dead centre to both in the hallway whilst smirking at Misha. “Your place or mine?”

Misha rolls his eyes and laughs before grabbing Mark by the collar and kicking open his door. “Yours, we’ve yet to trash one of _your_ hotel rooms.”

Mark huffs a laugh at Misha and kicks the door shut behind him whilst ripping at Misha’s shirt. “Too many clothes.”

The first time they did this it wasn’t exactly what you’d call balletic, more like two bears humping against a tree and fighting for the upper hand. Alcohol fueled horniness coupled with a distinct lack of precision meant that Mark came out of it with a split lip and Misha was sporting bruised ribs for days.

Since then they’ve come to an understanding.

Neither man takes the lead, they just fall into whatever feels natural at the time. It works, it _really_ works, and Mark enjoys nothing more than giving into the animal instincts that go with being with Misha.

Misha watches Mark rip his tee and feels a shudder ripple down his spine. A tingle that ranges from the top of his head all the way to the tips of his toes, toes which he’s curling painfully inside his boots. “ _Way_ too many clothes.”

Shedding every scrap of clothing as fast as possible, Misha and Mark stand staring at each other for just a moment before falling into each other's arms.

Teeth and tongue fight for dominance as they drop to the floor, not caring about carpet burn or the fact that the floor below is about to be treated to a concert of moans and groans and thumps that can only be the result of one specific activity.

Good job Jared and Jensen are in the room directly beneath Mark’s, huh?

As Misha runs the tip of his tongue along Mark’s spine, already coated in a fresh sheen of sweat, he thinks he hears the door below thunk open and a tiny thrill brings gooseflesh out on his exposed skin.

Mark can hear muted voices in the room below and he’s tempted to call a halt to proceedings, but the way in which Misha can twist his tongue into unnatural positions is forcing all thoughts but one from his head. “Fuck me, Collins.”

“As you wish.”

*****************

Jared hears a thump and groan from the room above and his heart sinks. “You have gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!

Jensen turns and eyes his partner for a second before the noises above filter through his confusion. “Oh hell no. Let’s go get drunk ‘cause there ain’t no way I’m stayin’ in here and listenin’ to that all night!”

Jensen grabs his jacket and keys and snags Jared’s elbow on the way out of the hotel room before laughing loudly to himself. “I reckon this might actually be Karma. We deserve this. No more betting for us, ever!”


	7. Filming Hiatus - May 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Filming Hiatus - May 2016**

Mark and Misha are huddled together on Misha’s couch waiting for Ruth to arrive before they put the final touches to their plan.

“We sure about this? It’s one thing the entire cast and crew knowing, it’s another thing entirely having the world in on the secret.”

Mark stares at Misha for a moment before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss. Pulling back and raising an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes and huffs in his boyfriend’s face. “You’re not telling me after all this you’re chickening out, Collins? You’re not ashamed of me, are you?”

The last is said with humour and snark and Misha finds himself reaching out and slapping Mark’s thigh hard enough to make his hand sting. “No, moron. I’m just making sure you’re okay with it.”

Mark appreciates the thought but he’s all in and if they make a little money for a good cause on the side, that’s just a bonus. “After the serious deafening of our cast mates in Italy, I don’t think we’ve got any secrets from them now, do you? Plus, the look on Jared’s face will be perfect!”

Just as Misha’s about to reply he hears the front door go. “Only me, boys. I haven’t missed it, have I?”

Mark scoots over on the couch, making space for Ruth between him and Misha. “No sweetheart, we were waiting for you. So, how are we wording this again? Oh, can you take the picture, Ruth?”

“It’d be my genuine pleasure.”

************

Jared and Jensen are lounging by the lake when Jensen’s message tone sounds from his phone sitting on the bench. “Damn you makin’ me sign up for twitter. Every time someone tags me I get a fuckin’ notification.”

Jared smirks at his boyfriend and stretches out his long legs, enjoying the way the sun dries the lake water still gathered on his thighs. “You love it.

Jensen snatches his phone from the bench and starts scrolling through his notifications. “I’m not the one with a need to overshare, Jay. Oh, hey, it’s from Ma - **What?!** ”

The volume at which Jensen shouts brings Jared’s head up. “What? What’s up?”

There’s a five second delay between Jensen reading the social media message and breaking out into the loudest most raucous laughter Jared’s ever heard, and he has to pry the phone from Jensen’s fingers in order to see what all the fuss is about.

There on the screen is a full colour photo of Mark and Misha sucking on each other’s tongues, with a short message written beneath it:

**“To the world, we would like to announce our official couple status. However, that’s not the most important thing we have to share today - “**

There’s a link to Misha’s Facebook page where a far longer and much more detailed message has been posted.

With a feeling of being completely _played_ settling in bottom of Jared’s stomach, he clicks the link to the message and sure enough:

**”We would like to thank you, all of you, from the bottoms of our hearts for making this twenty-two hundred dollar donation to Random Acts.**

**Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Gil McKinney, Ty Olsson, Tim Omundson, Kim Rhodes, Richard Speight Jr, Osric Chau, Brianna B, Clif K, Jason Manns, Tahmoh Penikett, Travis Aaron Wade, Rob Benedict, Matt Cohen, Steve Carlson.**

**This money will make it easier for Mark Sheppard and I (Misha Collins) to help those less fortunate than us. The money in question is specifically going towards an outreach program for teens who are confused about their sexuality and have no one else to turn to.**

**It will mean the difference between feeling like they should hide, and accepting themselves for who they are.**

**Finally, a last heartfelt thank you to Ruthie Connell for her continued support in all we do, love you Ruthie.”**

Jensen’s finally stopped laughing and is looking at Jared like he’s waiting for him to faint, or pop a blood vessel.

What his boyfriend actually does is so much better.

Flipping through Jensen’s contacts, Jared hits Mark’s name, throws the call on speaker, and waits, listening to the ringing tone go on and on until he thinks it will never be answered.

Finally the call is picked up and Jared and Jensen are blasted with an acapella concert of three voices guffawing loud enough to raise the hairs on the Texans’ arms. “Bastards. We’ll double it.”

After three solid minutes of catcalls and giggles, Mark’s voice cuts across the din. “Random Acts thanks you, arseholes. By the way, Ruthie says you can donate her stake as well.”

Jensen collapses in a fit of stomach ache inducing laughter, whilst Jared just about manages not to spray Jensen’s phone in saliva as he snorts and coughs. “How long did you know?”

“About three weeks - and boys?”

Jensen and Jared chime in together. “Yeah?”

“You gotta get up earlier than that to get one over on The King of Hell and an Angel of the Lord, not to mention the Witch who puts all other witches to shame.”

“It’s not real, morons.”

“Try telling that to our thousands of fans. Now, we’re having a little get together in a couple of days. You’re kind of integral.”

“Let me guess, we’ll be doing a ‘photo op’ with a giant rubber cheque?”

“Bingo. Text you the details. Later.”

Mark clicks off and looks to his two companions before nodding once and bumping fists with Ruth then Misha. “I do believe they’ll think twice about betting against us ever again.”

*******************

Two days and lots of laughter filled phone calls later, Rob, Tim, Kim, Osric, Stevie, Travis, Matt, Richard, Brianna,  Clif, Ty, Gil, Jason, Tahmoh, Ruth, Jared and Jensen all stand in line for a huge panoramic photo. Clasped in all of their hands is a massive cheque made out to Random Acts for forty-four hundred dollars.

They’re all wearing equally guilty looking smiles and are trying not to shuffle their feet too much as the photographer tries to corral a bunch of over-excited actors. “People, people, stop moving and _smile_.”

Mark and Misha stand off to one side watching Jared and Jensen shove Ty and Tim out of the way, whilst Ruth and Gil laugh over some silly joke. Clif, the biggest of the people all trying unsuccessfully to look professional and proper, is doing his usual _Papa Bear_ routine and failing at making the cast do as their told.

“Guys, seriously, this poor man must be so sick and tired of us - “

Ruth, the tiniest of the group, steps out from beneath the cheque and turns to the assembled cast of miscreants. “OIII, Shut UP! Do we not think we’ve had a wee bit too much fun already? I’m pretty sure Misha and Mark can come up with some kind of actual punishment if you lot don’t pipe down!”

Every single person drops their eyes and hushes instantly.

A chorus of “Yes Ruth” comes floating across the room and the photographer thinks finally he might be able to get one decent shot. “Thank you, Miss Connell. Could you step back in line?”

Ruth tucks herself between Jared and Jensen and finds her face obscured by the giant cheque. She opens her mouth to complain about giant Texans when she feels two sets of hands lift her off her feet. “HEY!”

She’s about to smack Jared round the head when a flash goes off and she’s blinded. “Bugger. Did I have my mouth open?”

“No Miss Connell, you looked positively adorable, now, one more for luck!”

The cast stand straighter and taller and smile as wide as they can until the photographer shouts “SAY SUPERNATURAL!” and they all collapse into fits of giggles.

Clicking his shot, he thinks perhaps that might be the best picture he’s ever taken.

Full cast shot finally captured, the photographer asks if Mark and Misha would like a few shots of their own, to which Misha says quite seriously. “Only if we get to kiss Jared and Jensen.”

Jensen steps forward with his lips puckered and Jared has to hook a finger in his boyfriend’s collar to drag him backwards. “Over my dead body, Collins.”

Mark almost falls over at Jensen’s disappointed huff and pout, and Misha wraps his arms around his partner before leaning in and stealing a long drawn out kiss that has the entire cast making exaggerated gagging sounds.

“Ewwww!”  
“Stop it.”  
“My eyes.”  
“Anyone got a shot of vodka I can wash my brain out with?”  
“My spine just melted.”  
“Get a room.”  
“Just not above ours, this time!”

Mark pulls away from Misha and flips Jared off over his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You’re just jealous we out shout you two.”

The photographer wanders away dazed and more than a little confused, but he shuts the door on the group who are quite clearly family, and he thinks to himself that perhaps he’s lucky to have witnessed such genuine affection between so many people.

We should all be so lucky.


End file.
